


From a Parrot, to a Dove

by Chyme



Category: Gatchaman Crowds
Genre: F/M, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Romance, Self-Acceptance, teenagers being dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4212660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chyme/pseuds/Chyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hajime spent her whole life learning how to wait.</p>
<p>Sugane, however, spent his waiting how to learn.</p>
<p>Neither of them are entirely successful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From a Parrot, to a Dove

**Author's Note:**

> I want to put this out here before it gets jossed by season two, now that the premiere is lurking on the horizon.

Hajime could remember when she had been small, small enough to feel as though the ideas in her head were incapable of rest, but not quite enormous enough to spill out over the edges of her brain. It had been a nice enough time, back then, though one where she was constricted to using the safety scissors; but she could still remember pouting at the way the blades were rimmed with child-proof plastic in place of the metal her mother used to slice her sandwiches.

It was understandable now, of course, but back then she had thrown a fuss.

‘Why can’t I use the ones you always use? They’re bigger and sharper and I could cut out so much more!’

She had had visions of parrots, their long swirling tail feathers ridged with pink paper that was cut out to resemble the long ripples of party streamers. Whether or not her hands were skilful enough to match up to the result in reality was another matter. But even if she produced a bunch of misshapen zig-zags, she’d have been a step closer than before. To Hajime, nothing was worse than staring down at a blank sheet.

Her mother didn’t know any of this, however. As used as she was to seeing messily-stuck-down wool and the glossy sheen of crayon spilling onto the pristine white of the paper she laid out for her daughter, she was quite incapable of seeing any of the finished masterpieces for the sprawling epics they were. She may even have sighed in response to the familiar demands for the pair of pretty purple scissors she kept out of Hajime’s reach in a box on top of the fridge.

Hajime couldn’t quite remember if she actually _did_ sigh or not though; either way she wouldn’t have held it against her, not now. After all, there were quite a few times when Hajime felt like sighing at the people around her too!

‘No,’ she remembered her mother enunciating quite firmly. ‘I’m not driving you down to the hospital just because you ended up slicing off your fingers accidently. You’ll have to wait until you get bigger. Don’t worry: it’ll happen sooner than you’d think.’

Hajime’s cheeks had puffed up like the big spiky fish she had sometimes seen in that film she loved.

‘No! It won’t happen! I’ll be careful!’

And Hajime’s mother had paused mid-swipe against the glass she had been cleaning, carefully setting down the dishcloth.

‘Can you really make a promise about something that hasn’t happened yet?’

Hajime didn’t remember how she answered. But as she grew bigger, and quite quickly too, just as her mother predicted, she realised that there wasn’t a definite ‘yes’ she could given in response.

 

\--------------------------

 

Hajime could remember what it was like to be smothered by love, quite literally. Her back had been rammed up against a wall and the lavender smell of Sugane’s sweatshirt had clogged up her nostrils with a hot, irritating pain. It had taken him a while to respond, to loosen his arms around her and even then, they did it stiffly, as though he was worried she would flee from him like a startled animal.

‘I’m not going to run away Senpai!’ she had choked out, feeling a little red in the face, as his own flushed one wove its way across her vision.

He had sniffed, looking like he was torn between lecturing her and bursting out into tears again and unbidden, a nasty little voice had piped up from inside her, saying that honestly, there was no need to choke her. She would have preferred him yelling at her, maybe even a grimace or two, back in the days when he didn’t even want to try figuring her out.

An even nastier voice had spoken up then.

‘Hey, hey, so even Hajime-chan isn’t always the nice, accepting person the Gatchamen think she is, huh?’

Of course not. Even without Berg-Katse nestled inside her chest, Hajime had dark thoughts, impulses, inane trollish chatter that plagued her mind like everybody else in the world. They had been there before Katse had come to her planet and would remain there even after she had welcomed him into her heart, the barbs of his words ripping into her in a way she didn’t trust anyone else to handle.

But that didn’t matter. Not so long as there were light thoughts too, mixed in with the creative impulses that made her seek out the shapes in her mind that she wanted to breathe life into, wanted to lay out in the form of a collage, all things she wanted to encourage Sugane and Utsutsu to look at, to emulate.

It was why she shoved down both voices, her spite and Katse’s and their muttering about ill-placed superiority complexes and all the ‘huh, who do you think you are, the next Messiah?’s' that kept bombing her way. She shoved them down and quietly took in Sugane’s face and the way his hands kept patting the sides of her arms, a gentle motion but one that still stung Hajime slightly.

Something in her face must have registered with him, because his hands became a little more skittish, drifting away from her skin entirely as his fingers wound themselves down into a delicate tracing motion that helped carved out the space in the air around them.

‘I won’t tell you not to do something like that again,’ Sugane said thickly and Hajime took an odd comfort in how that hurt her, ‘I can’t. Not when I’ve put my own life on the line to help people. But can I ask you to promise me something?’

‘Sure!’

‘Promise that you’ll come to me, to us, if it gets too hard, just like how Rui came to us when he needed too.’

Hajime felt as though her insides were doused with water, the cold sort that came straight out of the tap. Because that wasn’t really what Sugane was saying. Not that he didn’t mean every word, because he did, in that horribly noble way of his, he surely did. But...

She was suddenly struck with the memory of his embarrassment when she’d found out that he stuffed sachets of dried herbs into his drawers. ‘To keep bugs out,’ he’d said, both flustered and defensive and she’d been delighted with that discovery, in how in keeping it was with her perception of him being a clean freak, a perfectionist who was cutely ruffled by her and could maybe stand to be ruffled a bit more.

Only she hadn’t wanted to ruffle him to this extent.

So even though she felt horrible saying it, even though she felt Katse cheering deep down inside her, she found her lips quirking up into that familiar smile.

‘Of course!’ she chirped. And tried not to feel too desperate at the slight sheen of happiness that broke into his eyes.

 

\--------------------------

 

Hajime could remember that first momentous day, how her mother had caved in and brought her scissors where the blades shone with a metallic sheen instead of a plastic one. They had still been small, ideally suited for a child’s hand and the handles had been crafted to branch out slightly, winding into elongated tips. They were curved and smoothed, lined like the sanded-down edge of a crescent moon.

Her mother had smiled and said, ‘they remind me of wings. You know, the grand sort, like we saw on that goose yesterday?’

Hajime had given her a buck-toothed smile as a reward. She had loved those scissors, carried them everywhere, until her fingers broke out into blisters whenever she tried to force them into the frame. She had outgrown them, though they had yet to outgrow her heart and so she had carefully laid them to rest in an old pencil case and let them linger there, dormant alongside afternoon memories of building worlds where dinosaurs and love hearts could live together on paper.

Her mother had been right. They had looked like a bird’s wing. Perhaps that was what had influenced her, years later, to buy a hair clip that bore a slight resemblance to the image her mind conjured up in response; a white bird, far smaller than her mother’s remembered goose. It was like taking off in search of something new. Something better.

Whether she would find it or not, Hajime knew, was all up to her.

 

\--------------------------

 

Sugane felt like a coward. He hadn’t been able to vocalise it, that thought that had flashed through his mind quicker than a bird taking flight.

‘Promise that you won’t lose to Berg-Katse. Promise that you’ll always be there, that you’ll always be you. Just Hajime.’

Hajime’s assurance that she would be just that, should have been comfort enough. In some ways it was.

But Sugane found himself making another collage that night, perhaps as a good luck charm, or perhaps just as a reminder of all the things Hajime had introduced him too, a panicky one so that he wouldn’t forget even if she did. It was messy, unpractised, and in no way better than the last bird he had tried designing. He had only had white paper in his desk drawer and had been too embarrassed to ask Hajime for other options. So, as usual, he had resolved himself to being boring .

Well, he comforted himself; you could always pretend it was a rare pigeon. The neck was too short to be anything grand like a swan or even a common goose. Maybe a dove?

He’d have to work on himself a bit more. Just enough so that he could be brave enough to capture that brief feeling of not being afraid anymore, that one he had experienced not too long ago.

He shoved the pigeon, dove, whatever it was, back in the desk and over the next few months, forgot about it.

 

\--------------------------

 

‘Hey,’ Hajime’s mother said over the phone one day and Hajime would never forget it, ‘what did you mean by that strange message you left me? That whole ‘don’t worry, I’ll always be me,’ thing? You know I can’t figure out how to watch live streams for the life of me. I heard you were hurt doing that Gatchaman thing of yours. You aren’t going to force me to look it up on that ‘u-tub’ thing right? What’s that site called...’

Hajime swallowed down the bile in her throat. Berg-Katse gleefully informed her that it smelled like overcooked rice, a smell he knew full well that she hated.

‘Nothing mum,’ she said cheerfully. ‘You know I’ve always wanted strange things, right? Even if it’s just to say them aloud. And, well, it’s true though, isn’t it? I’m me! I’m just Hajime.’

‘I know that silly,’ came the laugh from the other end of the phone. ‘Like you could ever be anything else, honestly.’

Hajime felt herself smile. It felt warm and private, deep enough to tinge her soul and send Berg-Katse screeching into the depths of her being. When she said goodbye, she felt like singing. And that’s precisely what she did. All the way home, despite the strange looks.

The smell of freshly steamed rice greeted her as she opened the door and it sent a rush of happiness racing through her, happiness that helped propel her into the kitchen.

‘Welcome home,’ said Sugane cheerfully, his new glasses dangling dangerously from his nose as he leaned over a new recipe book. He frowned, then, ever mindful of kitchen hygiene, poked the glasses back against his skin, with the end of the wooden spoon he was handling, the end that probably now wouldn’t see the inside of a saucepan again. He turned to look at her politely, then hesitated.

‘You look...different,’ he said slowly then blushed, a little horrified at himself. ‘I mean better!’

Hajime cocked her head to the side, reminding him of a cute owl video Rui had sent him the other day.

‘Really?’

Something in her voice got to him and he studied her a little more seriously. ‘Better,’ he decided firmly and then smiled at her.

Hajime smiled at him in return. And this time, it didn’t feel like such a strain.

 

\--------------------------

 

It was only, later, months later, that Hajime found the pigeon that Sugane had so carelessly forgotten. She picked at it with her fingers carefully; it was like trying to unpeel a pretty string of decorative tape from an envelope that she stuck down the wrong way and had become determined to re-use. She suppressed a smile at each bump she felt, each little ridge and crease, her fingers curling and pressing as she eventually thrust it free and into the light, to see all the grime that that delicate white colour had collected.

She stared long and hard, picturing the way Sugane must have pressed it back down into the heel of the draw with his all customary bluster, fingers and thumbs shoving it tightly into a wooden corner, one not designed to cradle such a flimsy thing.

‘Honestly, Senpai, that’s not like you. You’re usually better at taking care of things.’

‘Must have lost his touch,’ came Katse’s voice, stabbing like a needle into her brain. ‘I wonder why? Alright! Let’s take a quick survey! Is it...’A’! He’s worried about you! ‘B’! He acts so much like an old man, he’s growing senile himself! Or ‘C’! He just plain sucks!’

Hajime tried to tune out his voice, she really did. But with some sort of smothered sigh, she made sure not to let pas her lips, she ended up tucking the bird into her pocket.

‘Thief! Thief!’ screamed Katse in delight.

‘That’s right, I’ll just have to own up about it later.’

She twirled her way out of the room, absentmindedly rubbing the bird between her fingers. She wondered what species Sugane had been aiming for when he made it. A dove, maybe?

 

\--------------------------

 

‘Senpai?’ she said slyly, later, when he had been tricked into a cosy feeling of security by the fish she left to stew inside a pot in the kitchen. ‘Do you remember this?’

She had launched herself onto the floor beside him, wrapping her arm round his neck firmly. He relaxed into her hold instantly, something she found gratifying considering the poison she carried around inside her. But then he had stiffened, like a mouse, as soon as she poked him in the nose with the little dove he had forgotten about.

‘Ah!! Where did you get that!’

‘I was snooping through your room. Sorry!’

‘Hajime!’

She flushed at the sharp disapproval in his voice. ‘I know, and I am sorry. Perhaps you can think of a punishment later?’

For some reason this made him flail within her hold and she had to let go before he sprained her arm. He hesitated, clearly horrified at the idea of hurting her.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so-’

She put an end to his tirade by catching the end of his glasses from where they hung crooked over the shell of his left ear. They must have been jostled to the side by his earlier movements, each one spiky with his usual panic. He stilled, his eyes abnormally large as she let a few fingers dab the side of his head, gently stirring the hair there.

‘Ah, let me just fix this...’

She readjusted his glasses with her usual smile.

‘All done! Tah-dah!’

‘Another good deed for the day?’ he asked with a slightly crooked smile. She noticed that his arms spread out by his sides now, languorous in the way they relaxed, almost as though they wanted to spread themselves out along a sofa arm.

She shook her head as she felt Berg-Katse scoff inside her.

‘No. Just me being selfish.’

His smile dimmed. ‘Is that what Katse said?’

She shook her head. ‘No. I just like it when your face looks symmetrical; it’s for my benefit only, nothing to do with what Katse likes!’

‘Damn right,’ Katse growled inside her. ‘He’s a hunk but he’d look so much cuter with his face all smooshed up. Doesn’t it make you all sweaty, the idea of him dishevelled with his glasses cracked? Hey, hey, Hajime, why don’t you smash them for me, huh? Wouldn’t he look all cute, crying as you bullied him?’

She tilted her head to the side.

I don’t think I’m into that, she told Katse firmly, besides, I don’t think I’d like Sugane with his eyes all blotchy! He  
looks so much nicer when he smiles!

Then she felt a small amount of surprise as Sugane shook slightly, a small laugh escaping him.

‘You being selfish, huh? Well, it would make a nice change of pace.’

He tilted his head to the side to match her own and it sent a thrill through Hajime, to realise how much he had changed around her.

‘Well, if it makes you happy...you can adjust my glasses anytime.’ He embarked on a small coughing fit, his arms suddenly tensing before they whirled round to shove his hands against his mouth. ‘Urgh.’ Hajime was treated to his furious blush as he suddenly turned away from her. ‘I-I have things to do!’

He fled from the room with a speed, that still, after all this time, was a little astonishing.

‘Wow, he must really hate you touching him, huh?’ said Katse slyly.

Hajime almost, but didn’t quite, give into the desire to roll her eyes.

‘Drat,’ she breathed. She hadn’t managed to ask Sugane about why he had made the dove in the first place.

 

\--------------------------

 

He appeared later, nervously fiddling with her door handle as she peered down at her summer homework and frowned. Berg-Katse was giggling and suggesting rude words she could write inside the boxes she was supposed to fill up with correct answers and his voice, as much as she was loathe to admit it, was grating. So Sugane's appearance, therefore, was a welcome relief.

‘Ah!’ She made sure to fix her face with a smile before she set down her pencil and turned, beaming, in Sugane’s direction. ‘You came back!’

He flinched. ‘I didn’t...well, I guess I did run away. That was cowardly of me, sorry.’

She waved a hand, already dismissing the apology. ‘I don’t care! ‘Cos I know you’ll always come right back, here, to correct your mistakes!’

He tilted his head and Hajime was amused to see a twitch of irritation taking control of his brow.

‘A mistake? I’m not sure I would go that far...after all, I remember leaving it in _my_ drawer, in _my_ room. It’s not really something that would just fall out, unless _someone_ was snooping.’

Hajime grinned sheepishly. ‘Mmm, you’re right. I guess it’s my turn to apologise. Sorry!’

He shook his head and sighed, kneeling down so that he was at the same level she was.

‘Why’d you take it?’

‘It was pretty. And I felt sorry for it, lying smushed down there underneath all those things. It took effort to make, so why’d you leave it there, all alone?’

He hesitated, biting his lip.

‘I...maybe it was a good luck charm? I’m not sure I can explain why I made it., and it sounds stupid, but I don’t think I made it for me, well, not at first. It was more for you, like a stupid talisman, to keep you...’

He hesitated again, this time biting down hard enough that Hajime saw a speck of blood appear when he finally dragged his teeth away. ‘To keep you, well, _you_.’

She digested this and then shook her head.

‘Everyone changes, all the time. It never stops.’

‘But not everyone has to worry about how much of those changes are solely because of themselves,’ he said, in almost a whisper. ‘And how much of themselves are left over when they have to share such ‘changes’ with another person.’ He looked at her a little sourly. ‘You’ve already gone through such a big one after all. It might be difficult to keep track of all the little changes that keep happening afterwards.’

Inside her, Berg-Katse giggled.

But Hajime paused, remembering the time when she had felt little enough to change the world, little enough that even with all her big ideas, she still felt as though there was room left over for some more. But these days she was feeling very full.

‘When I was a little kid, I liked to make pictures of all sorts of things. I went through a craze, once, designing parrots and other, big tropical birds.’

Now Sugane was looking confused. ‘Um, yes, that sounds nice?’ he ventured.

She nodded firmly. ‘It was! But later, I looked at myself and thought I should go a little more slow. I saw beauty in colours that weren’t quite so bright, not quite so in your face, ya know? And I started liking doves.’

She looked down at Sugane’s crumpled college and smiled, smoothing down the rough crease that bent it’s wing slightly.

‘I don’t know if a dove was what you were aiming for. But I like it. Thank you.’

She turned back to him and let the smile slip slightly. Why not? He’s already started seeing through the other little things she had tried to take care of. ‘And I’m sorry Senpai, but I don’t think it should be kept in your drawer anymore.’

‘I don’t have any real objection,’ he said slowly. But then he paused and peered at her as though his glasses could help magnify her somehow. ‘Doves are small, right? Smaller than those big birds you used to like?’

She nodded, feeling something thick and unpleasant bob up into her throat.

‘Well,’ he said, this time a little fast, ‘I might be misunderstanding something and I’m sorry if I am, but you’re still pretty big to me. Or at least, you feel that way. I still think you’re going to do lots of big things. You aren’t...you aren’t small at all.’

Something fled from her throat. It took a moment but then Hajime realised that it had been a sob, one that had erupted in a heaving swell of emotion, one that not even Berg-Katse’s pointed remark of ‘cry-baby’ could pierce.

And then Sugane’s arms came around her, and with them, that familiar lavender scent. It was pushed up from the bundled creases in his shirt, hooked right into the set of her nose. And somehow, through that cloying scent, her hand found the curve of his back. She thumped down against it heartedly.

‘Don’t cry, this time, okay?’

He snorted. ‘You should talk! But if I do, you’re not allowed to laugh, okay?’

Her hand stopped in mid-thump and flattened itself abruptly, her palm soaking up all that lavender spice.

‘I would never,’ she vowed, ignoring the kissy noises Berg-Katse was squelching out against her soul.

And it was true. Some parts of her, Hajime was now pleased to know, were here to stay. And perhaps, in the end, that was all she could ask for. That and a good-luck charm someone had made to keep her safe.

She felt her mouth curl up into a grin. 'Sugane,' she found herself saying, feeling a laugh bubble up inside her throat as his arms stiffened around her. 'Lean back, a tick, would ya? I wanna try something.'

Cautiously, he did as she asked, his red-rimmed gaze skittering away from hers to focus on the lines of her homework. She smiled to see it.

'You don't need to worry about that, Senpai,' she chided, reaching out to grip his chin with her fingers. 'You're going to college soon, remember?'

Inside her, Kaste howled, told her to turn her nails into claws, to drag them against the skin and leave trails of red behind. She ignored him happily.

And then, quick as a whip, she pressed her lips against Sugane's and hummed.

She was expecting the knee-jerk reaction, the flailing of the limbs and way he would imitate an octopus without meaning to. She was even expecting him to stare at her for a moment and sputter. But she only halfway expected the way his eyes would harden half a second later and the way he would try to be brave as he leaned forward.

'No humming, please,' he muttered, before their lips joined again.

Hajime was okay with that. But before the kiss ended she allowed her tongue to creep out from between her lips and flick against his own.

Once again, he jumped back and sputtered. 'I don't think we're ready for tongues! Please, Hajime, go easy on me!'

Hajime pouted, but conceded the point. Like her mother had once told her, everyone grew bigger, sometimes before they knew it. But Sugane perhaps, still had a little more growing to do.

Well. She could wait, couldn't she?

 ...Maybe.


End file.
